


Master of Illusion

by scribeofmorpheus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dominant Quentin, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Illusions, Light Bondage, NSFW, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeofmorpheus/pseuds/scribeofmorpheus
Summary: Premise:Imagine Quentin using his multi-million dollar illusion tech for a tripy, steamy somewhat dominant show of his sexy side. (No, he isn't wearing the fishbowl or the grey onesie, not even I can make that look sexy!)





	Master of Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> **Song:** [Rogues](https://open.spotify.com/track/0oqqhX559n7si0EtOUQFtY?si=EI2XeTADRaumZY1faGrVLw) & [_Out of Control_](https://open.spotify.com/track/6gwJm7LgsaHdd3CWi4K8e8?si=SY_ls1rmQce4jS8j2_yXAQ)

**~**

You watched Quentin program something into the mainframe. His long, slender fingers swiftly moving against the keys. A thoughtful furrow drawing his dark brows closer to his unnervingly clear blue eyes as they moved from left to right in speedy motions, reading the code crawling up the screan with ease. His hair was not neatly slicked back as usual, a single lock dangled around his dark eyelashes. A half-full bottle of beer left to get warm next to the mouse.

You'd been watching him for a while. Taking in ever flinch, twitch and flicker of motion across his body. You'd spent most of the day working and now you were bored. Quentin told you he'd be done in twenty minutes. That was an hour ago.

You were restless and a little needy, wanting the attention of the enticing man sitting a few feet away.

"Quentin, it's been an hour," you complained.

"Mmm-Hmm," he said, not having heard what you said at all.

"You said we'd spend time together."

"Mmm-Hmm."

You needed a way to get his attention. You slowly stood from the couch, walking closer to him, hands toying with the buttons of your blouse.

"Quentin…" you undid a button.

His eyes still glued to the screen, "Mmm-Hmm."

"I'm bored," you pouted.

"Mmm-Hmm."

You undid the rest, revealing your lacy bra. Cleavage opened to the cold air, nipples straining against the fabric of your bra. Although, to be perfectly honest, that reaction wasn't all accredited to the cold air. You had been frustrated for days now. Ever since he began working on the new update.

The keys kept clacking away as you stood there, less dressed than before.

You rolled your eyes, "I'm pregnant." You said flatly, hands on your hips.

Quentin's fingers froze, his head snapping up to look at you lightning-quick, "What?" He croaked, eyes wide as he noticed your buttons were undone.

You laughed, shrugging off your blouse completely, "That got your attention."

"Wait," He swivelled in his chair, completely in shock. "Were you being serious?"

"Nope," you said casually as you plopped yourself on his laps, legs spread as you took his mouth in yours and kissed him. "I just wanted your attention."

Quentin grumbled, but a small smile caused the corners of his mouth to pull back. He brought his hands to your hips, tugging you closer as the fabric of your trousers strained.

"Well," he said lowly once you removed your lips from his. "You got my attention." He suckled at the skin on your neck until it turned red. You moaned happily as he moved up to the ticklish spot behind your ear. After he left a mark there, his teeth put a little bit of pressure on your earlobe. All the while, his hand trailed down your back to adjust your ass on his lap so he could cup a handful. Palming you slowly, tantalisingly.

Your nails raked against the direction his hair was styled, the pads of your fingers massaging his scalp as you moaned, your back arching and breath heavy with desire.

Quentin's eyes went dark as he watched your reaction to his light teasing.

"You're more eagerly receptive than usual," he noted, one eyebrow arched up when his lips left your skin.

You placed a trail of kisses from his collar bone to his lips, fingers working his first button free, "Because you haven't touched me in a long, _long_ time."

Quentin stopped your hands, an idea making his face light up with mischief, "Let's rectify that."

"Yes, let's," you agreed eagerly.

But then he lifted you off the chair and onto the floor, reaching for the necktie he'd stashed in the drawer before spinning you around so he could tie it around your eyes.

"What?" You barely managed to say.

"It's a surprise," he whispered.

***

"Watch your step," Quentin ushered you into the room blindfolded.

You took each step cautiously, unable to see the floor beneath you. Quentin squeezed your hand reassuringly, leading you into what you assumed was a large, empty space from the echoing coming off your heels.

"Quentin, where are you taking me?" You asked with a smile.

You were startled by his lips abruptly crashing onto yours, his scruff tickling your cheek, leaving the skin there feeling hot and a little scratchy. His tongue coaxing your own in languid and passionate strokes. Each motion a sensual serenade stealing your throaty mewls with fevered intensity, causing him to deepen the kiss.

"I'm giving you your first demonstration," he said in a guttural tone. The lilt in his voice making your knees weak. You licked your lips in response to the feeling of anticipation burning across your lips and neck and chest and stomach and…

"Demonstration?" You asked curiously.

You heard him give off a dark laugh, it wasn't sinister, but it was still equally dark.

He placed his hands around your temples, fingers slipping in between the bands of the blindfold, the sound of his deep inhale making your stomach flutter and spine tingle.

"You ready?"

You bit your lip, accidentally wiping some of the red lipstick from your swollen lips. "More than."

Quentin removed the tie and when you opened your eyes, you were no longer surrounded by the familiar empty warehouse space you'd grown accustomed to in the last couple of months. The room had been transformed into a smokey, red-lit room. A curtain of beads behind Quentin bordering a completely black background.

"Do, exactly what I say," Quentin's voice whispered behind you, his finger trailing a line from your shoulder to your wrist.

Your eyes squinted to the Quentin in front of you in shock. You craned your head to look where his voice had come from, but there was no one there, even though you could _feel_ him there.

"I've been working on something special, just for you." He whispered again before his warmth disappeared from your back and you were left with the illusion in front of you.

The lighting began to lazily dimmer from red to magenta to purple and all the way back again. Pulses filled the room, making you feel like you were on an electric cushion, sending vibrations through the air. You guessed it was the drones. You licked your lips, loving where this was going.

Suddenly, the illusion of Quentin smirked, looking at you with animalistic intent, his fingers slowly undoing each of the buttons of his shirt.

You instinctively reached out, but Quentin's voice echoed all around you as though he were an omnipotent being in the sky, "Don't. Move."

You stood still, enjoying his dominant side and the way it turned his voice hoarse.

Once the illusion was free of his shirt, Quentin's voice spoke out again: "Now do as he does."

The illusion began to remove the rest of his clothes at an achingly slow pace, making you move equally as slow. The pulsing in the air making you feel like one giant, human-sized heartbeat. You swallowed hard when the illusion took off his briefs, his erect dick set free to twitch unabashedly in front of your eyes, veins pumping blood downwards hungrily.

His hand slid from his abs to his navel and all the way passed his v-line. And then his hands wrapped around his dick, his arm moving up and down as he started to pump himself more erect. Precum, glistening atop his foreskin.

Your breathing grew deeper, so did the ache between your legs. The effects of your lower lips slowly moistening around your core felt profound now that you weren't wearing underwear. You could practically feel yourself seeping.

You mirrored his actions, your fingers grazing the straining bud of your nipple, then your navel and finally your clit. It was already swollen, tension ebbing around your lower body. You began to rub circles around the sensitive bud, at the same pace as Quentin's illusion pumping himself, the pulsating room dialling everything to excruciatingly lewd levels.

"Wait, stop..." Quentin's voice sounded strained, you could hear his desire drip with each letter.

You frowned, ignoring him as you continued to touch yourself and watch the illusion's face contort in pleasure; head tilted back, Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow, lips parted, brows drawn together, free hand trembling in a fist.

Suddenly, your hands were gripped by Quentin's cloaked hands and then he tied them with the tie and a drone hooked around the knot, lifting your hands and suspending them in the air.

"But… you… said…" You protested through ragged breaths.

Quentin's hands moved to cup your breasts and flick the erect nipples, "I know what I said." His voice was back by your ear.

Your eyes closed from the pleasure, but it wasn't enough, you felt like you were going crazy, you core throbbing. You needed him to touch you.

"Quentin, please..."

He chuckled, taking great pleasure from the sound of your pleas. His real erection pressed to your lower back, but he was still fully clothed, you could feel the absence of the heat that should have accompanied the contact.

"Watch," he ordered and you opened your eyes again.

The illusion began to shift like a jigsaw puzzle piece, the lighting turning into a warm amber and suddenly, the illusion backed away, into the black background, only for it to change into your bedroom. Quentin's illusion was no longer alone, yours was next to him, on top of him, her hips circling like a belly dancer as she lowered and rose seductively up and down, her mouth letting out loud cries of pleasure. Her hands were wrapped around Quentin's illusion cuffed to the bedpost, his hips bucking upwards vigorously.

You watched them do to each other what you'd wanted Quentin to do to you for weeks. His cloaked hands touching you with a feather-light touch. The pulsating turned more focused, its perimeter reduced to a circular area where your clit was throbbing. The pulses grew stronger and it almost, almost felt like your vibrator, just painstakingly weaker.

You cried a moan of pent up desire, thrusting your ass against his erection.

He growled dominantly, "You're insatiable. I told you not to do anything unless I specifically said so."

With those words, the seafoam green wallpaper of your apartment wall morphed into a giant tidal wall, the waves rushing towards you, washing away the illusion before you. You closed your eyes, mistakenly expecting to be drenched by the waves, but after they passed over you a new illusion was born. Your mirror selves were in Quentin's workspace, computer running code while she kneeled next to his chair, taking him into her mouth greedily.

Cold air swept against your skin, making you realise the real Quentin was no longer touching you. You pressed your legs together to try and relieve some pressure, then you felt his arms pry your legs open as his tongue found its way inside you.

"Ahnnngg," you shivered. Eyes still glued to the lovers in front of you as Quentin worked the tension from between your legs with a skilled tongue. When your legs began to shake, he thrust two fingers into you, angling them against your more sensitive wall. The friction feeling amazing as a knot began to build inside you.

Now your hands were shaking, tugging down against the drone’s upward force. Your hips instinctively writhing.

"Oh, Beck!" You nearly screamed. "I'm… Hnngg, yes! I'm clo--"

But then he removed himself from between your legs and you whimpered loudly. The illusion swirling with pastel colours like a paint mixer and morphed into one of your mirror selves fucking against the large glass windows of a penthouse bedroom. The city lights shimmering below.

The knot keeping your hands tied was undone and Quentin moved you across the room, somehow the perspective and distance of the illusion stayed the same. Then your front was pressed against an invisible wall and without warning Quentin thrust into you. His scruffy beard burning at the skin on your shoulder as he muffled his moans by biting lightly on your skin.

In and out and back in again was his ritual, your legs buckling against his forceful yet pleasurable thrusts. His grip leaving a red imprint on your thighs. Your hand vivaciously glided down to your clit, finally allowed to work magic against the sensitive skin.

The illusions were reaching their peak just as the two of you were. The sight of Quentin's illusion wrapping his hands around your mirror self's neck turned you on even more. When they reached their climax, your walls clamped down around his dick, pulling him into your blissful spiral. Knees caving in, the both of you slid from the wall to fall backwards like limp dolls on top of each other. His cum making you feel gloriously full as he wrapped his arms around your stomach and kissed your head of hair.

You gasped for air, bodies slick with sweat, "That… was amazing!"

"Now you know what I've been working," Quentin rasped.

The illusion faded away, and now it was just the two of you alone together, the world no longer a consideration.

**~The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> [ **Masterlist** ](https://scribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com/post/185640896300/scribesmasterlist)


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